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William Allingham Poems

A collection of select William Allingham famous poems that were written by William Allingham or written about the poet by other famous poets. PoetrySoup is a comprehensive educational resource of the greatest poems and poets on history.

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by Allingham, William
 Far from the churchyard dig his grave, 
On some green mound beside the wave; 
To westward, sea and sky alone, 
And sunsets. Put a mossy stone, 
With mortal name and date, a harp 
And bunch of wild flowers, carven sharp; 
Then leave it free to winds that blow, 
And patient mosses creeping; slow, 
And wandering wings, and footsteps rare...Read More



by Allingham, William
 Four ducks on a pond,
A grass-bank beyond, 
A blue sky of spring, 
White clouds on the wing; 
What a little thing 
To remember for years- 
To remember with tears!...Read More

by Allingham, William
 See how a Seed, which Autumn flung down, 
And through the Winter neglected lay, 
Uncoils two little green leaves and two brown, 
With tiny root taking hold on the clay 
As, lifting and strengthening day by day, 
It pushes red branchless, sprouts new leaves, 
And cell after cell the Power in it weaves 
Out of the storehouse of soil...Read More

by Allingham, William
 That which he did not feel, he would not sing; 
What most he felt, religion it was to hide 
In a dumb darkling grotto, where the spring 
Of tremulous tears, arising unespied, 
Became a holy well that durst not glide 
Into the day with moil or murmuring; 
Whereto, as if to some unlawful thing, 
He sto]e, musing or praying...Read More

by Allingham, William
 Adieu to Belashanny! where I was bred and born; 
Go where I may, I'll think of you, as sure as night and morn. 
The kindly spot, the friendly town, where every one is known, 
And not a face in all the place but partly seems my own; 
There's not a house or window, there's not a field or hill,...Read More



by Allingham, William
 The vast and solemn company of clouds 
Around the Sun's death, lit, incarnadined, 
Cool into ashy wan; as Night enshrouds 
The level pasture, creeping up behind 
Through voiceless vales, o'er lawn and purpled hill 
And hazéd mead, her mystery to fulfil. 
Cows low from far-off farms; the loitering wind 
Sighs in the hedge, you hear it if you will,--...Read More

by Allingham, William
 A sunset's mounded cloud; 
A diamond evening-star; 
Sad blue hills afar; 
Love in his shroud. 

Scarcely a tear to shed; 
Hardly a word to say; 
The end of a summer day; 
Sweet Love dead....Read More

by Allingham, William
 Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods, 
And day by day the dead leaves fall and melt, 
And night by night the monitory blast 
Wails in the key-hold, telling how it pass'd 
O'er empty fields, or upland solitudes, 
Or grim wide wave; and now the power is felt 
Of melancholy, tenderer in its moods 
Than any joy indulgent...Read More

by Allingham, William
 Here the white-ray'd anemone is born, 
Wood-sorrel, and the varnish'd buttercup; 
And primrose in its purfled green swathed up, 
Pallid and sweet round every budding thorn, 
Gray ash, and beech with rusty leaves outworn. 
Here, too the darting linnet hath her nest 
In the blue-lustred holly, never shorn, 
Whose partner cheers her little brooding breast, 
Piping from some near...Read More

by Allingham, William
 O English mother, in the ruddy glow 
Hugging your baby closer when outside 
You see the silent, soft, and cruel snow 
Falling again, and think what ills betide 
Unshelter'd creatures,--your sad thoughts may go 
Where War and Winter now, two spectre-wolves, 
Hunt in the freezing vapour that involves 
Those Asian peaks of ice and gulfs below. 
Does this young...Read More

by Allingham, William
 October - and the skies are cool and gray 
O'er stubbles emptied of their latest sheaf,
Bare meadow, and the slowly falling leaf. 
The dignity of woods in rich decay 
Accords full well with this majestic grief 
That clothes our solemn purple hills to-day, 
Whose afternoon is hush'd, and wintry brief 
Only a robin sings from any spray. 

And night...Read More

by Allingham, William
 Little Cowboy, what have you heard,
Up on the lonely rath's green mound?
Only the plaintive yellow bird
Sighing in sultry fields around,
Chary, chary, chary, chee-ee! -
Only the grasshopper and the bee? -
"Tip-tap, rip-rap,
Tick-a-tack-too!
Scarlet leather, sewn together,
This will make a shoe.
Left, right, pull it tight;
Summer days are warm;
Underground in winter,
Laughing at the storm!"
Lay your ear close to the hill.
Do you not catch...Read More

by Allingham, William
 In Sussex here, by shingle and by sand, 
Flat fields and farmsteads in their wind-blown trees, 
The shallow tide-wave courses to the land, 
And all along the down a fringe one sees 
Of ducal woods. That 'dim discovered spire' 
Is Chichester, where Collins felt a fire 
Touch his sad lips; thatched Felpham roofs are these, 
Where happy Blake found...Read More

by Allingham, William
 Good-bye, good-bye to Summer! 
For Summer's nearly done; 
The garden smiling faintly, 
Cool breezes in the sun; 
Our Thrushes now are silent, 
Our Swallows flown away, -- 
But Robin's here, in coat of brown, 
With ruddy breast-knot gay. 
Robin, Robin Redbreast, 
O Robin dear! 
Robin singing sweetly 
In the falling of the year. 

Bright yellow, red, and orange, 
The...Read More

by Allingham, William
 In early morning twilight, raw and chill, 
Damp vapours brooding on the barren hill, 
Through miles of mire in steady grave array 
Threescore well-arm'd police pursue their way;
Each tall and bearded man a rifle swings, 
And under each greatcoat a bayonet clings: 
The Sheriff on his sturdy cob astride 
Talks with the chief, who marches by their side,
And, creeping...Read More

by Allingham, William
 Up the airy mountain,
Down the rushy glen,
We daren’t go a-hunting
For fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,
Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,
And white owl’s feather! 

Down along the rocky shore
Some make their home,
They live on crispy pancakes
Of yellow tide-foam;
Some in the reeds
Of the black mountain lake,
With frogs for their watch-dogs,
All night awake. 

High on the hill-top
The old King sits;
He...Read More

by Allingham, William
 Doleful was the land, 
Dull on, every side, 
Neither soft n'or grand, 
Barren, bleak, and wide; 
Nothing look'd with love; 
All was dingy brown; 
The very skies above 
Seem'd to sulk and frown.

Plodding sick and sad, 
Weary day on day; 
Searching, never glad, 
Many a miry way; 
Poor existence lagg'd 
In this barren place; 
While the seasons dragg'd 
Slowly...Read More

by Allingham, William
 A man there came, whence none could tell, 
Bearing a Touchstone in his hand; 
And tested all things in the land 
By its unerring spell. 

Quick birth of transmutation smote 
The fair to foul, the foul to fair; 
Purple nor ermine did he spare, 
Nor scorn the dusty coat. 

Of heirloom jewels, prized so much, 
Were many changed to...Read More

by Allingham, William
 Pluck not the wayside flower, 
It is the traveller's dower; 
A thousand passers-by 
Its beauties may espy, 
May win a touch of blessing 
From Nature's mild caressing. 
The sad of heart perceives 
A violet under leaves 
Like sonic fresh-budding hope; 
The primrose on the slope 
A spot of sunshine dwells, 
And cheerful message tells 
Of kind renewing power; 
The...Read More

by Allingham, William
 A man who keeps a diary, pays 
Due toll to many tedious days; 
But life becomes eventful--then 
His busy hand forgets the pen. 
Most books, indeed, are records less 
Of fulness than of emptiness....Read More